In the Light You're Sickeningly Beautiful
by angelofsmalldeath
Summary: Bananun! Feedback is more than welcomed. Rating will probably change.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at Bananun.**

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Mary Eunice's body rose languidly from its slumber, lanky limbs akimbo and silken hair spread haphazardly across pillows. She stretched her arms above her messy head and sucked in the morning air with a sturdy and noisy sniff. Not unlike a fiendish children's cartoon, her delightful lips curled into an unsettling grin and the lips parted in a chuckle. "What wicked, wicked things can we do today, my dear?" The grinning lips said to themselves as long legs came to stop before an aging mirror.

The angelic face began to contort in response, a weak voice coming in tiny gasps. "No, please, no more! Stop this horror and let me be!"

But a lovely hand tipped in strikingly red nails came up and slapped the face of its own body. "None of that, you little bitch," the cool lips said to themselves again.

The body's haughtier inhabitant now in control, lithe arms wound around it like those of a lover and slid rakishly over the flimsy material of a sleazy nightgown. A long, delicate throat hummed unmelodically in no particular time to the sultry movements of the body, and the hands stopped for just a moment to cup their own breasts.

"My, my! What perky little _breasts_ you have, my dear," she purred, admiring her new-found flesh. "Why, the better to," she paused to bend and glide her hands along the length of her legs. "…seduce you with." She continued to hum and prance for her own reflection as she considered the possibilities for the day. With so many nutty people to spook and religious types to insult, her choices were limitless, really. She could provoke the paranoid or get the prudey ones hot and bothered, terrorize the mutes… She sighed contentedly. A crooked institution was the greatest place for her to land, she decided. It was all like a charming little playland made especially for Satan.

She slid her hands to the apex of her thighs and dragged her nails across the skin above her curls, raising dots of flesh and a shiver in her borrowed spine. "There's never a bad time for _un petit mort,_" she whispered to herself through devilishly curling lips.

"What have you in your darkest dreams, little nun? Hmm?," she murmured. The presence pulled from the retreating mind of its beautiful host to draw inspiration of mischief from a maiden's desires in order to debauch the girl's sainthood. Being an omnipotent being had so many perks; she couldn't fathom why anyone wouldn't want to be the devil.

"La-di-da," she murmured, fingers stilling. "Perhaps we'd better go out in search of _another_ woman's touch."

It was at this moment, however, that an unmistakable and wholly disturbing wail broke free through the halls and rang like a phone receiver in her ears.

"Well, speak of the fuckin' devil!" She squealed. "How delightfully refreshing!" Maybe there was a God after all, handing her a delicious little lesbian on a silver platter of crazy.


	2. Chapter 2

"Now, I know you're not a fucking Banshee, because they're having an excellent holiday in Vietnam at the moment."

Lana leaned into the corner of the room and covered her head. "Leave me alone."

Mary Eunice stepped closer, swinging a rosary in her hand as she did so. "Wah, leave me alone! Is that the best you have to offer me, feisty little girl? Your anger is so much of your charm."

Lana raised her head just enough to peek at the deranged nun with swollen eyes. "You're a terrible bride of Christ."

"And you're a terrible screamer, at least beyond the _boudoir_, anyway." She tucked the rosary back into her habit and clasped her hands, sighing. "I'm sorry, it seems that this conversation began on the wrong foot. Let's try again, shall we?" She placed a delicate hand on Lana's upper back. "What's got your knickers in such a twist, darling creature?"

Lana would have snapped back, but the hand creeping toward her hairline felt almost tender, and she so craved gentility. "I, um. Hmm," she managed as the fingers began to work into the back of her hair.

"Are you feeling neglected, Pet? A little love-starved? You're a girl who needs the attention of others, aren't you?" She massaged her thumb into Lana's neck and caressed her scalp with her fingers. "How _are_ you surviving? Briarcliff's very own Future Superstar, rotting in a cell by night with the daytime company of an accused murderer, an axe murderer, and wayward nun with magical fingers."

"Magical fingers that are needed in the bakery, Sister?" Lana muttered.

With her delicate lips pursed in a moment of thought, Mary Eunice wound Lana's hair around her hand. "No, I do believe I'm going to take the day off. Get a little one on one time in with our needier wards. Special attention can make all the difference in fragile mental health."

"And you've decided to start with me?"

"No, I don't think so." Mary Eunice let go of Lana's hair and it fell in a wave around her shoulders. "I've just come to say hello." Her hand traveled from the nape of Lana's neck to the top of her breasts in a fluid moment taking less time than required for a reaction from her startled plaything. "To leave you missing my presence. That's how the brainwashing starts, you know." She pulled away abruptly, leaving a sampling of Chanel No 5 and aroused confusion in her wake.

"Ta for now!" She called, turning the key in the lock as she did.

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Swinging her keys at her side and whistling a merry tune, Mary Eunice prowled along the hallway. She couldn't think of a single thing more refreshing than adding chaos to the confusion of a sexually deprived mind. Miss Winters just reeked of sex addict and nimble fingers, and the devil within Mary Eunice found her tongue darting out to her lips with each burgeoning thought of lusty indulgence. She strutted along the corridors gleefully, plotting her seduction to perfection.

She would have to pull this off very carefully, execute each caress like a precise ballet step (something the real Mary hadn't been much good at as a child- all limbs and no coordination) and fire words from her lips that were equal parts lewd and intriguing. Language would hold the heaviest weight with the writer and allow her to reap the greatest harvest of affection. Words were Lana's entire life, after all.

Entering the common room, she felt a grin beginning to twist along from the corners of her lips as she surveyed the everlasting misery around her. Even bereft of patients, the room seemed to exude longing and the filth of mind, and the bitter taste of tears and horror filled her. Precisely the kind of "kick 'em when they're down" atmosphere in which she liked to dwell.

Her heels clicked in a staccato path across the dank room, and she caught her reflection in the filmy window in passing. "My, my," she muttered, whistling at herself. The demon in Mary Eunice had never been so grateful to inhabit a body as she was to take up residence within the heartachingly lovely young nun. Perky breasts, skin that radiated youth and innocence, and the face of an absolute goddess- her own reflection could take her breath away if caught off-guard.

Her own loveliness, the feeling of inescapable doom provided by their environment, and the convenient fresh heartbreak in Lana's love life created the most perfect crucible for her little stunt.


	3. Chapter 3

It was later that same day that Lana Winters sat curled into herself in a corner of the common room, seething with disdain for her own skin and the loss of youth and beauty that came with her stay at Briarcliff.

As she stewed miserably within the confines of her filthy gown, Lana felt the undeniable searing of another's gaze alight upon the greasy skin of her back. As if she didn't already feel phantom insects crawling the length of her arms and legs, like she might earn her place in the demented institution by clawing her own flesh away from her bones in disgust, the weight of the eyes behind her sent her careening toward complete mental collapse in a fit of nerves and a forgotten sense of self-conscious insecurity. Preparing to face her voyeur with composure and not the wild animal instinct surging within, her breaths came in shaking gulps.

She barked hoarsely, "Can I assist you?" and then, " ...Sister?" she added weakly, the honorific muttered in near silence as when at last her words did come to fruition on her lips, they tumbled and fell to shatter hopelessly at the feet of a leering blonde nun.

The toothy grin spread wider and a spark of something akin to delight flashed in blue eyes. She started to reach a hand to Lana's retreating face, a giggle trickling from her throat. "Ms. Winters, what on earth did you say?" Her smile was almost warm, her extended hand so nearly tempting. Lana's confusion raged yet again for longer than it should have in the moments it took her to answer Mary Eunice.

"I… I asked if you needed any help…" her eyes dropped from Mary's gaze and fell to her shoes. "Um, Sister," she finished quietly. She hoped the squinting of her eyes went unnoticed; the Sister's shoes had certainly caught her attention. Lana could smell Givenchy radiating from the floor.

The nun stepped closer, wagging a finger toward her and still grinning in a way that disheveled her further. "Nooooo," she sing-songed, the last sounds of the word rising in intonation with the mischievous rise of her eyebrows. "What _exactly_," she paused for emphasis, "did you say, Miss Banana?" Her whisper was giddy and light and this terrified Lana.

"I, uh. Um." She became semi-consciously aware of her heart slamming into her ribs. Had she said something incredibly out of line to the Sister without realizing it? Oh, God, her chest hurt. Her mind coursed from one horrific punishment to the next, clutching at each idea to rationalize the likelihood that it wouldn't apply to her crime.

"I, uh, asked if I could assist you, Sister." Her gaze rose again to Mary Eunice's face. She released her trembling lip from between her teeth to defend her words, prove them to be innocent and genuine, only to be startled silent by a peel of laughter ringing from the austere form before her.

Mary Eunice clapped her hands together and the laughter in her eyes bore holes through Lana's cheeks and she couldn't fathom why.

"What a silly little treasure!" Mary Eunice exclaimed, successfully bringing a manicured hand to Lana's chin. "How charming!" She stroked a thumb over Lana's quivering mouth, seemingly in awe. Her giddy wonderment brought to Lana's mind the expression of a child on Christmas morning, though the thought didn't serve to soothe her, especially taking into consideration their encounter earlier that morning in her frigid cell.

"Do it again," the nun urged excitedly, her twinkling eyes once again meeting frightened brown ones. "Say all those words again."

Tears threatened to spill from Lana's eyes but dripped from the words on her lips instead. "I asked if I could- could assist you, Sister." She sucked her lip between her teeth again, struggling to remain calm and standing solidly on her own two cold feet. Bravery bubbled within her and she continued, "Why are you laughing, Sister?"

Mary Eunice gripped her chin gently and her fingers felt like tiny, delicate furnaces on the distressed skin of her face. "I'd never noticed the delightful properties of your faulty pronunciation, Miss Winters. How did I miss this little wonder? Your lisp is positively refreshing in this dark place."

Lana's face turned a bright red and her gaze yet again fell to the floor.

"No, no! Chin up!" Mary Eunice chirped, tugging the brunette's face up so their eyes could meet.

"How. Fucking. Adorable." She muttered, tilting her head to the side and studying Lana's face with genuine interest and the ghosts of a smirk.

Trembling lips parted tentatively, words trying to escape into the thickening air between the two. "H… Why… Why the sudden interest in me, Sister?"

The merry smile dripped from the blonde's face and was replaced with a stonier, yet not unkind grin. Lana didn't dare to let herself think it, but it nearly seemed seductive.

"Please, just Mary," the nun began, holding her palm toward Lana to signify her dissatisfaction with the formality. "And because, little dear, there's a spark in you that I think I like."

Lana's eyebrows knitted a fraction closer with her fresh realization. "Why me?" She bit. "Why not Shelly?"

Mary rolled her eyes and blew an exasperated puff of air to dishevel her bangs. "Blah, Shelly," She singsonged, pulling a face and shrugging her shoulders. "Shelly will fuck anything that walks. You only take to bed a particular breed."

"I don't know what y-"

"Oh, horsefeathers!" Mary Eunice interjected. "I know what you are. I know _everything_," She sneered. "And I love a challenge. I'm rising to the occasion, Miss Winters. I want to be your type." She dragged a rounded fingernail along Lana's trembling jawline. "I want to star in your dreams, Lispy Lana."

Lana's entire being shook with trepidation and shock, and despite her greatest efforts, lust. "Why are you doing this to me, Sister?" She whispered hoarsely.

"How sweet, honestly. You look like a little bunny rabbit, trapped in the nasty hands of excited school children." Mary tucked a strand of stringy hair behind Lana's ear. "There, there, little bunny. If you'd come off it for a minute, you'd realize I'm not _doing anything to you_ in the sense you're insinuating. I'm on your team here, Lana."

Lana's breaths came in unrhythmic gasps as she turned her face away from Mary Eunice's stare. "This has got to be some terrible prank," she muttered. "I'm not in the mood to be punished for succumbing to cruel jokes tonight, _Sister_."

Mary's smirk widened and her eyes shone so starkly in the dankness of the common room. "Now what made you think you'd evade punishment for your insubordinate snapping just a moment ago? However adorable it may have been," she added.

Dark doe eyes grew with fear and swelled with tears as Lana's hand reached blindly beside of her for something to grip in panic. "Sister, I-" She began, only to be interrupted by the Sister's sudden invasion of her space, and the instantaneously feeling of another's breath ghosting over her own cheeks.

"You know, I had this terrible uncle from the deep South- crumbs in his beard, overalls, smelled of whiskey and sour tobacco." Mary Eunice crinkled her nose in disgust. "He said we'd get 'a lickin' ' for misbehaving. It made me giggle until I learned that it was a euphemism for ' a severe beating'. But, Miss Lana Banana, by the way, what is that? An awkward euphemism for lesbian? I do believe "a licking' applies beautifully to your punishment, my darling pet." With that, her tongue darted from her mouth to trace along the shell of Lana's ear. "_You're off the hook this time_," she whispered hotly against the skin of Lana's neck.

She pulled away abruptly, slapping the heel of her hand against the shining oak of the cigarette-burned table, sending a deafening crack into the air and startling Lana to a shivering mess. Lana involuntarily let slip a whimper from the back of her throat and another again when the sister leered dangerously in her direction in response.

"Careful, Ms. Winters. That could be your bottom the next time. Though, I do think you'd respond the same." With a gleaming wink, she quickly disappeared through the staff door in a flurry of black skirts and clacking heels.

One good shudder traveling the length of her spine sent the trembles from Lana's slumping form, and she collapsed back into the grimy sofa with her fingertips pressed to the place Mary's lips had just been on her neck. With a long-held whoosh of air, she mumbled, "Jesus Christ," into her lap. Surely none of this meant anything good for her. The logic in her brain did little to quell the fear in her heart, and despite it all, reason and fear be damned, she could do nothing to cease the heartbeat between her legs.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry this isn't much. Here's a little bit to let you know I haven't forgotten it. More to come when I get my shit together, I promise!**

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On the third day since their encounter in the common room, Lana grew lax in her efforts to avoid the Sister. Her carelessness found her strewn lazily upon that same deteriorating sofa, legs crossed at the knee and fingers poised around the filter of a cigarette being used as a conversational prop as she explained something hilarious to Kit Walker.

Mary had found an opportunity to strike.

"What's so funny, Miss Winters?" She questioned innocently from a few feet away, busy herself with a mess a board games left behind in a corner. She smiled shyly and ducked her head to avoid Lana's gaze.

"A matter too foul for your delicate ears, Sister," Lana delivered smoothly, taking a draw from her cigarette and releasing the smoke from the corner of her lips as her eyes graciously accepted the Sister's bending form.

A subtle choking sound from Kit's throat snapped Lana's gaze back to his face, both concerned and amused.

"Oh, my," Mary Eunice stammered, blushing. "I"ll leave you to it then, Miss Winters, but I'll ask you to bear in mind that the Lord hears all." She pointed her delicate finger to the ceiling, the supposed direction of a omnipotent god, giving Lana a faultily stern look as she did so, and crossed herself quickly before vacating their corner.

"You got some balls, you know that?" Kit muttered, eyes bright.

Lana stubbed her cigarette out and lit another. "She isn't all innocent."

Kit's mouth flopped open and he stared incredulously, "Mary Eunice? Sister Virgin? What kinda mushrooms are you tripping on, Lana?" He grinned a little a shook his shaggy hair. "You better be careful. Jude'll cane you for talking that way to her golden child."

"Jude can kiss my ass," Lana replied carelessly, though Kit thought he caught a slight tremor of her hands as Mary Eunice rounded the corner to their little nook again.

"Come, Miss Winters," she ordered quietly, hands clasped behind her back and her eyes trained to the peeling tile of the floor. "Hydrotherapy awaits."

Lana raised an eyebrow and this time, dared to blow the smoke of her cigarette in Mary's direction. "I don't think I'm on the schedule today, Sister. You must be mistaken."

Mary's stare darted to meet Lana's and it seared the patient in two. "I'm certain, Miss Winters." She stepped minutely closer and offered a silken hand to assist the subject of her scrutiny to her feet. "If you prefer, Sister Jude can escort you, though I think not," she added quietly.

Lana never dropped her eyes from Mary's as she left her cigarette burning in the ashtray and effortlessly raised herself from her seat. "After you," she chirped, motioning for the nun to lead the way.


End file.
